


just a kiss on the neck

by impossiblepluto



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, Jack Lives, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, post mission body checks, very brief mention of 5x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29361132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: "You promised, if something went wrong, that you'd call."One (of two) ficlets written for the tumblr drabble prompt: "kiss"
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 69





	just a kiss on the neck

**Author's Note:**

> This one is very tame but not platonic, and I'm as surprised as you are. Hope you enjoy it!

Mac is dreaming, and he knows it. 

Relaxed. Comfortable. Rain patters against the solid roof overhead. Hushed and rhythmic beats, lulling him towards deeper sleep. He’s safe and warm, a feeling that’s been fleeting most of his life. 

He was restless when he went to bed, sure that he’d never fall asleep. But now there’s a peacefulness, nothing can hurt him. 

Protected. 

Loved.

The rain stops. 

Or the staccato of the shower in the adjoining bathroom. 

A puff of steam ghosts across his cheek as the door creaks open. A waft of heady musk tickles his nose. 

The bed dips. 

A stubbly kiss brushes against his cheek. Gentle. Trying not to disturb his slumber. Mac’s lips tug into a smile he can’t stop as Jack slides beneath the sheets next to him.

Even though he’s dreamt this scene dozens of times over the years, he’s not dreaming now. Hasn’t had to dream this for months. 

Mac reaches back, his sleepy smile grows as he discovers Jack didn’t bother with clothes. His skin still warm and damp from his shower. Mac twines his fingers in Jack’s. Pulls Jack’s arm around him, snuggling deeper into the security Jack offers. Tugging his hand closer, resting over his chest. 

Jack presses another warm kiss against the back of Mac’s neck. His beard scuffing the soft skin. Jack untwists his fingers from Mac’s, finding the hem of his t-shirt and sliding underneath, skimming against his muscle. 

With his suddenly free hand, Mac reaches back for Jack again, all hard planes and warm skin, strong muscle. Ghosting across familiar scars. Emblems of honor, courage, that Jack wears proudly. Proof of the lives he’s saved. 

To Mac, testaments of Jack’s bravery and his love. He hates that he’s the reason for many of these scars, and hates more that there were scars he didn’t recognize when Jack finally came back to him, but their existence is confirmation that Jack made it home. He’ll spend a lifetime mapping them. 

Mac’s hand sweeps up higher and he freezes. Fingers resting against a ridge that he doesn’t recognize. That he’s sure wasn’t there a few days ago.

Jack takes in a sharp breath. 

Mac pushes up in concern, recognizing the sensation on his fingertips, shrugging out of Jack’s arms. 

"Mac, baby, it's okay," Jack tries tugging Mac back against the pillow again, settle him into his embrace. 

“What happened?” Mac wriggles, voice catches. Snapping on the bedside lamp, and turning to face Jack, intently examining the fresh sutures across his ribs. 

“Lost a fight with a little piece of shrapnel. Itty bitty thing. I brought it home for ya. It’s in my bag…” Jack’s voice trails off as Mac’s breathing quickens, the color disappearing from his already pale face.

“You didn’t call,” Mac’s fingers hold above the stitches. Close enough that Jack can feel the heat from his hands. Far enough that the loss of contact aches worse than the wound. 

“Yeah, I know, hoss. I’m sorry.” Jack dips his head, trying to meet Mac’s gaze, blue eyes focused on the row of sutures. 

“You promised… something like this… if something went wrong… you said you’d call.” Mac looks up, meeting Jack’s eyes. Reaching behind him, Mac scrambles for his phone on the nightstand. “I know you didn’t call. I didn’t… I didn’t miss… not again...”

“You didn’t miss it,” Jack catches Mac’s trembling hand, pulling it against his mouth. Pressing unhurried, gentle kisses against each knuckle. 

Mac pulls his hand away, refusing himself the comfort he longs for. Pushing aside his own hurt and memories and examining Jack’s face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I promise, it's just what you can see,” Jack swears. 

“Let me see,” Mac shoves aside the blankets. His eyes scanning the expanse of skin. Then his hands come up, caressing against Jack’s body again, this time searching for any injury he might be hiding. Anything Medical might have missed. He can't risk it. Needs to see and touch and prove to himself that Jack is alright.  


And Jack lets him. Knows how important it is for Mac to see for himself. Especially now. After everything they’ve been through, what they lost and miraculously found again.  Understands the only way to assuage those fears is hands on skin. Has forced Mac to sit through numerous body checks over the years for that very reason. 

“I used the sat phone to start a fire, shorted out the battery,” Jack explains as Mac’s hands smooth down his shoulders, palpating joints. “You’d be proud of me.”

A small smile twitches on Mac’s lips before tugging back down into concern, fingers probing Jack’s ribs. 

“Didn’t want you getting a phone call from anyone else. Didn’t think it was fair, making you live through that twice.”

Mac’s hand stalls over Jack’s heart, palm flat against his chest. His eyes close, pulse thumping against his hand. 

“Then I was in medical and getting the metal yanked out and all I could think about was getting home to you. Didn’t want you rushing over there, middle of the night, all upset and worried. You’d have barely gotten in and I’d be discharged and then we’d have to drive home in two separate cars which would be torture cause all I want is to hold you.”

“You didn’t wake me…” Mac opens his eyes, staring at Jack. 

“You were sleeping so peaceful. You never sleep and it’s rarely peaceful,” Jack places his hand over Mac’s, where he’s still finding comfort in Jack’s heartbeat. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, Mackie, I promise.” 

“You don’t have a concussion or anything. Nothing I need to wake you up for?”

“No,” Jack says, his eyes soft, his other hand reaches up, resting against the side of Mac’s neck. Thumb brushing against his jaw. 

Mac ducks his head, pressing a kiss to Jack’s palm. “Anything that I need to watch for? Or do?”

“Just one thing,” Jack whispers. Mac looks up earnestly. “Hold me.”

Mac smiles, wrapping his arms around Jack, pulling him close. Each feeling the other’s heartbeat against his skin. And Mac brushes feather soft kisses against Jack’s jaw.


End file.
